Crete: day 11
If leaving Milia was sad (and it was), leaving Crete was even sadder. More sad. Both.
We finally had time to walk the entire arc of the Chania harbor. It looks deceptively small, but the round trip took about an hour, and brought us out to the lighthouse that is a symbol of Chania. Originally constructed by the Venetians, it was in ruins when Egyptian occupiers built a minaret-shaped tower on the Venetian base (1821-1841). In any light, in any weather, the lighthouse commands your attention.
We filled the rest of the day doing errands: shopping, taking pictures, tasting what we hadn't yet tasted.
We passed this thing every day in Chania; each time we found it disturbingly grotesque.
This sign, on the other hand, amused us greatly. I finally asked the sidewalk guy (every harbor restaurant has a guy on the sidewalk, hustling potential diners) why the sign said what it said. He explained that EVERYbody says they're the best and that his restaurant knew they weren't the best, but that they were plenty good enough. I appreciated his attitude, but it wasn't lunchtime.
Spongebob is even scarier in Greece.
We flew out of Chania that evening. The only vending machine offering food service at our gate was appropriate and emblematic of our entire trip: unexpected, funny, and in very good taste.
We spent that night at the Athens airport hotel and flew home the following morning, but essentially our trip ended in Chania.
What a time we had.
P.S. Joe (above) is the undisputed champion of the 2010 Chania Chicken Foot World Cup. Last name withheld to protect the corporate.